


Without Words

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: Ballads of a Witcher and a Bard [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier sleeps on Geralt's chest, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no beta we burn like Cintra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Geralt doesn’t express his feelings. Until Jaskier learns that he communicates some things differently."You don't have to kill your feelings. It's enough to kill hatred within yourself." - Geralt of Rivia, Blood of Elves
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Ballads of a Witcher and a Bard [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710100
Comments: 69
Kudos: 977
Collections: A Little Hope, Geraskier





	Without Words

The first time Jaskier noticed it was when Geralt had fallen asleep before he had.

They were camped in the woods and lay mere feet away from the dying fire, close to each other for warmth. Geralt’s chest moved slowly with his every breath and Jaskier could feel the movement at his back as Geralt’s arm wrapped around him to pull him closer. 

Geralt relaxed, exhaled with contentment, and traced circles on Jaskier’s chest with his fingers. Three swirls in a rapid succession. Jaskier thought nothing of it, it must have been but a semi-conscious movement before Geralt drifted off to sleep. Jaskier snuggled close to his friend, enjoying the warmth and proximity, closed his eyes and let sleep pull him under. 

-

They travelled off-road, yet still a band of thugs managed to cross their path. The men must have been exceptionally stupid, as they hadn’t realised that Geralt was a witcher and what he and his swords could do. Geralt, however, took pity on them and just knocked the four idiots around and let them fall in a heaving heap in a clearing by the stream. Jaskier stood against a tree, watching Geralt’s dancer-like, graceful moves mixed with brute strength at work, when he felt a knife at his throat. Someone grabbed him from behind and he stiffened. The foul breath of his attacker preceded his words.

“Don’t make a sound,” the attacker hissed and Jaskier willed Geralt to turn his way, to no avail.

Helpless, Jaskier watched Geralt pull the men he’d knocked out to lay flat on the grass before he disappeared into the woods. 

“Where do you keep your coin?” The man inquired angrily and Jaskier was half convinced that he’d sooner die from the stench coming from his mouth than the knife at his own throat. “Where is it?” he prompted Jaskier by touching the tip of the blade under Jaskier’s jaw.

“You told me not to make a sound.”

“Don’t be smart with me or I’ll-” a gurgling sound was the first indication that Jaskier’s situation had changed. The second was the blade disappearing from his throat. The third was the sound of Geralt’s voice, which made him sigh with relief.

“Fuck, Jaskier. I can’t leave you alone for a second without you getting into trouble,” Geralt growled after Jaskier turned to face him.

“How is it my fault that he attacked me from behind?! ” Jaskier pointed to the man with his throat neatly slit that lay on the grass at his feet. “What a coward!” He exclaimed, straightening his doublet. “I was just minding my own business when he- oooof”

His rant was cut off the moment he was crushed against Geralt’s hard chest and held there by his reassuringly strong arms. The initial shock was slowly wearing off, and being replaced by an astonishment at the grand gesture the hug represented. Overwhelmed, and glad it was over, Jaskier let out a long breath and with it, all the stress that the attack had brought. 

“You’re safe now, Jaskier.” Geralt breathed, the low rumble of his voice in Jaskier’s ear a pleasant and soothing sound.

“Well, you saved me yet again, mister big bad witcher.” Jaskier smiled, coming back to his joyful self. Wrapping his arms around his best friend, he melted into the touch.

“Mmm,” came an affirmative growl in response. 

Jaskier expected to be released by now, but Geralt still held him as if unable to let go just yet. Jaskier smiled to himself, relishing the rare moment of affection as Geralt’s wind-blown hair tickled his nose. 

Then it happened again.

Three swirly signs on Jaskier’s back traced by Geralt’s fingertip.

Before Jaskier managed to form a question, Geralt let go and quickly turned around, gathering his sword from where it was impaled into the ground. The loose hair hid his face and Jaskier was unable to see the expression on it. The mood swings weren’t uncommon, yet Jaskier was still unable to fully decipher what they meant.

“Go get your horse,” Geralt rumbled without turning, as if the lovely, ballad-worthy moment had never happened. 

Soon, they drove forward, Jaskier trailing behind Geralt, thinking about his closest companion and how big of a burden Jaskier must be for him. He found himself in trouble and in need of saving quite often, and it was very probable that Geralt was finally getting tired of that. The cold command to mount had clearly been a sign of exactly that. Jaskier decided that he would continue to travel alongside his best friend until he was told he was no longer welcome.

-

A week passed, and Jaskier woke up half-splayed on Geralt’s chest. However, he stayed unmoving, letting the warm light of dawn wash over his closed eyelids. He was drooling over Geralt’s shirt a bit but that never stopped him from enjoying the morning closeness. It was the only time when he could pretend he was just subconsciously using Geralt as a pillow without raising suspicions as to how much he craved the touch during the day as well. Geralt’s arm was on Jaskier’s back stroking soothingly, until he traced three distinct swirls with his fingertips.

“What was that?” Jaskier inquired, speaking for the first time.

Geralt’s movements stopped abruptly, his body tensing nearly imperceptibly before he relaxed. 

“Geralt?”

“Go back to sleep,” came a gravelly voice.

“Are you putting a spell on me? I’m sure you’d want me to stop getting myself and you into trouble, but-” He frowned, analysing. “It’s so I wouldn’t talk so much, is it? Oh no no no Geralt, what if I won’t be able to sing?” His voice travelled high in pitch as he sat up abruptly, levelling his gaze on Geralt. “You can’t do this to me!” 

“Stop panicking, it’s not a spell,” Geralt explained in an annoyed tone.

“What is it then?” Jaskier asked impatiently. “Geralt?!” He smacked the witcher lightly on the arm to break him out of his eye-rolling spree. Several birds took flight from a nearby tree at his raised tone, but he succeeded in his task.

“Nenneke taught me a series of signs. Some of the sick who can’t talk for whatever reason and are illiterate are taught to use them in order to communicate about what ails them. The priestesses who take a vow of silence use it as well to convey simple messages and not waste parchment to write them down,” Geralt explained in a bored tone, looking at the tree crowns above them.

“What can you say with them?” Jaskier’s curiosity was piqued.

“Simple words and phrases. It was created with focus on communicating how you feel, where you’re hurting, what you need, whether you’re thirsty or hungry.”

“What are you saying when you write the signs on me?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“I’m sure that’s not what you’ve been tracing on my back.”

“No, but I should have.”

“Geralt!”

“No.”

“Oh come on! I’m your best friend in the whole wide world, tell me!”

Geralt released a heavy sigh that meant he suffered greatly in Jaskier’s company but was willing to endure it for some mysterious reason.

“Fine. Lay back down.” Geralt pressed him back down to his chest and Jaskier was far from complaining about the comfortable position with his cheek against Geralt’s pectoral. “Don’t turn around,” he said softly when Jaskier moved his head to face him “No, don’t look at me, please,” Geralt said in a stern but gentle tone, and Jaskier swallowed audibly. He had a feeling that he was about to hear something horrendously bad.

Geralt took a deep breath, his chest lifting up along with Jaskier’s head and torso, then falling back down as his hand travelled to Jaskier’s hair, his fingers sliding in between the short strands. Jaskier was close to purring at the pleasant touch but refrained himself to avoid embarrassment for the both of them. Jaskier couldn’t remember them ever staying so close physically without the excuse of seeking warmth, safety or for some other logical reason. He let himself savour the moment filled with tactile sensations, the scent of Geralt’s skin, the gentle morning breeze and the soft ruffling of tree leaves overhead, waiting for whatever dreadful information Geralt was about to disclose.

“It means…” Geralt swallowed and Jaskier could hear the incredibly slow heartbeat in Geralt’s chest in the serene silence of the woods around them. “It means that when we travel, I fear for your safety. I uh...plan the stops to make sure you can get water and nourishment. My…” He cleared his throat, “chest gets this bubbly feeling when you laugh and my libido spikes when you sing. No, don’t turn around. I feel like I can sleep soundly when you’re next to me knowing that you’ll be there when I wake up. It means you can now choose to leave me and not come back. You can fear me as I may not be able to remain merely your platonic companion forever. From now on, you will be awake at night in fear, in disgust. You will be ashamed to walk next to me. You will-”

“Shhh…” Jaskier interrupted and Geralt let go of him, letting Jaskier sit up. He faced Geralt and prompted the witcher to sit up as well. “Look at me, Geralt.” He moved the hair that had fallen over Geralt’s face to look into the depths of the yellow gaze that shone with vulnerability. “You silly, silly, witcher.” Jaskier said and Geralt’s gaze travelled downward. “No no no, I’ll have none of that now.” He cupped Geralt’s face in his hands. “I love you too, you big oaf.”

Geralt shook his head, his lips forming a straight line of denial.

“You can’t love a monster, a mutant, a-”

“Nope, I won’t listen to you talk like that. Have you not heard a single ballad I’ve written?” He asked with incredulity. “Have you not listened to the lyrics about the great White Wolf, the savior, the friend of humanity? Wherever we go, everyone who hears my songs knows I’m absolutely besotted with you. Oh Geralt...”

He could pinpoint the moment when Jaskier’s words finally hit Geralt as his chest heaved and he frowned before his expression turned sad while his eyes filled with disbelief. He caved in on himself and Jaskier was scared for a moment that he said something wrong. Geralt curled on the forest floor and put his head on Jaskier’s lap, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist. 

“Will you teach me?” Jaskier asked in a whisper, as if he was afraid to spook the big man in his arms.

Geralt nodded once. Jaskier smoothed the white hair with one hand while stroking Geralt’s back in soothing circles with the other. Geralt’s shoulders shook with quiet sobs and Jaskier held onto his friend as the wind cooled the tears that slid down his own cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments! 
> 
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